


Happy Fuckin' Graduation

by fightforyourwrite



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Drinking, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Graduation, Training, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightforyourwrite/pseuds/fightforyourwrite
Summary: Fresh out of training, Rico Brzenska shares a drink with her fellow classmate as she contemplates her life ahead of her.





	Happy Fuckin' Graduation

**Author's Note:**

> So I can't remember where, but it was stated that Rico and Ian were in the same batch of trainees. It also was stated that Ian knows a thing or two about good alcohol, according to Dot Pixis.

Rico Brzenska was satisfied by her rank. Not in the top ten, but good enough for her. She wouldn’t argue with anyone, but knew who she was going up against when it came to ranking. 

Rico knew that there were people in her class so determined to make it to the MP that they pushed themselves beyond the given expectations. She didn’t compete with them, there wasn’t a point in doing so. 

Unlike some people she had met during the last three years, Rico wasn’t dead set on living a cushy life in the interior. She would accept any grade she got with a calm disposition. 

Sure, if she had gotten into the top ten, Rico would have considered taking a spot in the Military Police. But her reality remained that she wasn’t in the top, she wasn’t even close. 

So without too much aggravation, Rico spent most of her graduation night contemplating her future with the Stationary Guard. 

Instead of celebrating with her fellow trainees, Rico wondered what part of the Walls she would be assigned at. Her fellow trainees created a commotion in the mess hall, the sound eventually dampening into a dull hum the more engrossed she got into her thoughts. 

If Rico asked her fourteen-year-old self what she thought she would be doing once she graduated, working under a notorious drunk named Dot Pixis was not one of them. But yet, that appeared to be the life that she would end up living once she left the Cadet Corp. 

In the middle of the celebration, Rico decided to leave the partying trainees for some air. She could feel the noise numbing her eardrums and the heat of the people starting to make her sweat. 

The cool air outside was a well sought after relief. It blew against her hair, which had started to stick to her head in sweaty clumps. Rico wiped her brows with her sleeve and took off her glasses, which had started to fog up in the warm room. 

She wiped them off with her shirt and placed thick-frames back onto her face, bring the once fuzzy dark world back into her view. 

When her perspective cleared up, Rico noticed something about the outside of the mess hall. In the cobblestone streets between buildings, she realized that she wasn’t alone. 

There was a person sitting on the street, slumped up against one of the buildings. 

Curiously, Rico walked closer and closer to them until she could make out a face and say a name. 

“Ian?”

Ian Dietrich looked up from the ground, pushing back his droopy brown hair until it was out of his face. 

“Four-Eyes? The fuck you doing out here?” 

“Needed some air,” Rico responded, looking her fellow trainee up and down. He seemed dressed better than he usually was, the wrinkles and creases on his shirt seemed to have been ironed out and gone. “What about you?” 

“Celebrating. Can’t you tell?” Ian answered simply. He held up the object grasped in his right hand. It was a leather bound hip flask.

Somehow, considering how much she knew Ian, it was not that surprising to see him with that. But still, he made Rico wonder. 

“Where’d you get that?” Rico asked, somewhat accusingly. 

“Snagged it off a teacher,” Ian responded, twisting the flask’s cap off and bring it up to his face. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” He put the neck of the flask to his lips and rocked his head back until the liquid dribbled into his throat in a deep gulp.

“You’re going to get reprimanded for that,” Rico informed him. 

Ian finished his pull and shrugged, “Eh. It’s the last day of training. We’re allowed to live a little before we go back to hell, aren’t we?”

Rico glared at him sharply, “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” 

Ian shook his head, “Nope, but I’m getting there.”

Sighing, Rico pressed her palm to her face. If this was what the military had on their arsenal, humanity would surely be fucked. 

She took her hand down and stared at Ian, he was swirling the liquor in his stolen flask. 

She saw no point in arguing him about drinking at such a time, so Rico moved towards her classmate and sat down next to him, her back slumping against the wall. 

Ian glanced at her for a curious beat, then he reached out and held the flask towards her. “Whiskey?”

Rico took the flask in her smaller fingers and gave it a whiff. It smelled like something she would use to disinfect a wound. “ _ This _ is whiskey?” 

Ian shrugged his shoulders, “It  _ could _ be whiskey. But it could also be cat piss mixed with rubbing alcohol.” 

Rico glared at him, blinking at him repeatedly. Humming, she decided to take a pull anyway, just to see what it was like. She hadn’t ever took a drink in her short life. 

She brought the flask to her lips and took a pull. Immediately, the liquid burned her mouth. 

On reflex, Rico almost gagged. She hunched forward and brought her free hand to her mouth, grumbling and fighting the temptation to spit it out. After a beat, she pulled herself back and swallowed the mouthful of burning water. It tasted like fire if fire could be liquidized and poured into leather bound flasks. 

Ian watched her in fascination. He always thought that Rico was a ridiculously well-collected person for her age, the most composed seventeen-year-old he had ever met. Seeing her nearly gag after taking a swig of alcohol was, in a sense, interesting. 

He let out a laugh, “Don’t drink much, do you, Four Eyes?”

“Not really,” Rico muttered, feeling the taste of the liquor on her tongue. Her cheeks were starting to feel warm. “Thought it would taste better than this.” 

“You get used to it,” Ian explained. “After three or four drinks, the burning goes away.” He took the flask back and took a swig of his own. Unlike her, he didn’t even gag as the liquid seared the back of his mouth.

“Why do you know so much about alcohol?” Rico questioned, curiously wondering where her classmate had gotten all of his knowledge. 

“You learn a lot over time,” Ian claimed. “My dad had a good taste for this kind of stuff. Of course, he’s a drunk, so maybe he wasn’t drinking it for the taste.” 

“I don’t think  _ anyone _ drinks it for the taste,” Rico stated. 

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Ian sighed. 

He offered the flask to her again, but Rico shook her head. “I’m good.” 

“Suit yourself, Four-Eyes,” Ian sighed, taking another swig for himself. 

A low grumble escaped from Rico’s throat, “I have a name, Ian. Why don’t you use it?” 

Ian lowered the flask and responded, “First of all, I’m about two drinks away from getting completely schnockered, so the rules don’t apply to me. Second of all, Four-Eyes suits you.” 

“I don’t think Four-Eyes is a suiting name for anyone, even if I can’t see shit without my glasses and you’re drunk off your ass,” Rico responded. She attempted to snatch the flask away from him, but to her surprise, Ian’s reflexes were still quite sharp even if he was partially intoxicated. 

“Well, you know the Garrison,” Ian remarked, glancing down at the liquor left inside the metal apparatus. “They’ll take you in even if you’re nearsighted, borderline alcoholic, or at the bottom of your class.” 

Rico attempted another snatch. This time, she was successful. He didn’t fight back when she took it from him. “You’re going to the Garrison?” she asked, curious. 

Ian nodded his head, “I don’t know if you could tell, but I didn’t make it to the top 10. I don’t have a fuckin’ death wish, so where else am I supposed to go after tonight?” 

“Maybe the infirmary to deal with your upcoming hangover,” Rico responded. She took another whiff of the supposed ‘whiskey.’ Perhaps the burn would hurt less the second time. 

“Where are you going anyway?” Ian questioned, trying to turn the tables on her. 

“Garrison,” Rico replied. “Didn’t crack the 10 either.”

“Why not the Scouts?” Ian asked. “You’re better with a blade than I am.” 

“I don’t a have a death wish or a desire to fight in a one-sided war,” Rico explained quite simply. 

Ian shrugged, “Eh, fair point.” 

The taller teenager tried to reclaim his stolen flask back, but clearly, the alcohol was starting to impact his motor skills. 

Rico took a look at Ian, a good long look as she glanced at him up and down. 

They weren’t necessarily the best of friends, if the last three years were the judge of anything. But she knew who he was from the start. He introduced himself as a simple guy from Krovla when the instructor screamed at him during initiation. 

Ian was shorter back then, his limbs having been smaller and less lanky when he was fourteen. For the first few months, Rico could recall being just a little taller than him before his growth spurt hit and made him into a fucking giant [in her short perspective]. 

Rico decided that he was good looking for the most part. His features had aged subtly over time, the lines of his face having gotten sharper during the last three years. Rico started to wonder how Ian would look if he kept up this drinking agenda of his. 

“See you on the walls then? Right after tomorrow?” Rico proposed, lifting the flask up. 

“I guess,” Ian decided. “Happy fuckin’ graduation, Four-Eyes.” Instead of reaching over for the flask, Ian simply moved his head forward until his lips touched the neck. Rico hadn’t even let go of it and watched in bewilderment as Ian leaned his head back to take a good, hefty pull. 

God, he was getting drunk. 

“Yep, happy graduation,” Rico agreed. Once Ian stopped invading her personal space for a little swig of ‘whiskey,’ she took the flask to her own mouth and took a drink of her own. 

She almost gagged. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really like writing Rico Brzenska. I think I have a new fave now.


End file.
